Sugar and spice and everything nice
eventually the layers peel back one by one
till there’ s only a little girl who wants to be saved
from the skeletons and suitcases she hid under the bed.
But there’s only a boy in grubby blue jeans
and a t-shirt like one of Warhol’s wet dreams
an unlikely prince in tarnished armor
still scared of the monsters in his head.
And he hides thoughts from himself
as he cuts down her paper dragons
thoughts of smiles and curves and textbooks
and the taste of red lips and the smell of black sketchbooks.
Down deep in the back of his whirling mind
lurk frightened thoughts wrapped around
an idea too wrong to let out into the light;
who will save him when he’s done saving her.